


Just One of a Few

by chloebaele



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-18 13:39:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4707962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chloebaele/pseuds/chloebaele
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chloe Beale. College Student. Acapella enthusiast. Clone? </p>
<p>An Orphan Black-esque AU based loosely on a gifset by brittany-snodes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Curiosity Killed the Clone

**Author's Note:**

> Slight trigger warning for suicide. If you’ve seen the first two minutes or so of Orphan Black you know what I’m referring to.

Chloe Beale wasn’t one to fall asleep in a library. Especially on a Friday night, when there was a perfectly good party that she could have been attending.

And yet, there she was. Red locks of hair tussled over the desk, cheek pressed against the pages of her Russian Lit textbook, pen still loosely clutched in her right hand. She was even snoring softly, being slouched over a desk clearly doing wonders for her back.

Which was exactly why she groaned quietly when the sharp sound of snapping fingers sent her bolting upright, her spine protesting somewhat silently, as the librarian’s stern expression reminded her to be quiet even in her half-awake state.

“We’re closing. You need to leave.”

The voice in the back of her head, sounding suspiciously like Aubrey, told her to bite her tongue and not deliver a snarky one liner about how charming the older woman was. It was also telling her she was spending too much time with Beca.

Using the back of her hand to wipe away any possibility of residual drool from the corner of her mouth, Chloe nodded before mumbling an apology as she collected her things. The Librarian’s hawk-like appearance doing nothing to speed along the matters as the red head’s books tumbled carelessly into her bag.

She tossed an apologetic smile over her shoulder as she made her way to the door, dipping up her bag as she went, eager to leave the old woman’s glare behind.

It wasn’t until she crossed over the threshold and into the cool night air that Chloe slipped her phone out of her pocket to check the time.

_10:06 pm._

The library was supposed to close half an hour ago. Cringing at her inability to stay awake while reading Chekhov, she made a mental note to leave a box of chocolates in the after-hours return box. Everybody liked  _Favorites_ , right? They were the ultimate gift to give when you didn’t actually know what to give.

She was only pulled out of her thoughts concerning the reaction to surprise chocolate when her phone began to buzz in her hand, smiling at the name that appeared on screen.

_DJ Extraordinaire._

Aubrey had scoffed when she first saw it. Beca had just rolled her eyes, even if the smile on her face told a different story. Pressing the answer button, she brought the device to her ear.

“Beca, if this is a booty call, I should probably let you that you’re doing it wrong.” Chloe teased, making her way down the side walk, street lights illuminating the way back to her dorm.

“I already tried  _hey girl, you up_ but you haven’t been answering your texts.” The voice deadpanned through the phone.

“Crap, sorry. I fell asleep in the library.” Her free hand absentmindedly ran through her hair, still internally berating herself for being fatigued. She hadn’t even gotten that much work done this evening. What a waste of a Friday night.

“And you’re still alive?” The smirk was practically audible.

“The books watched over me?” Chloe suggested, turning right as she followed the lit path. A silhouetted figure standing on the other side of the road caught her eye, the sight making her uneasy. The late time and lack of witnesses did not make for a comfortable situation. She continued to walk, glancing over to the individual, who was now heading in the same direction.

Chloe picked up the pace. The sooner she got home, the sooner she could shake the weird feeling that has settled in her gut.

“Hey Red, you still there?” Beca’s voice cut through her thoughts.

“Huh, yeah I’m still here. What’s up?” She didn’t sound shaky did she? She felt like she sounded shaky.

“Uh, nothing. I said that since walls had ears, it was entirely possible that the books had eyes. And then you like, zoned out or something. You didn’t even comment on my fabulous analogy.”

“You’re weird, and that’s hardly an analogy.”

“I’m not weird.  _You’re_  weird.”

“Wow, way to make a comeback, Mitchell.” Chloe scoffed.

“Way to avoid the subject, Beale. You never miss an opportunity to laugh at my awesome grasp of the English language. What’s up?”

“It’s nothing. It’s dumb.” Anxiously, she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, watching over her shoulder.

“Sure it is, that’s why you sound like you’re literally the embodiment of stress. You sound like Aubrey during rehearsals. Seriously, what’s going on?” In any other situation, the shift from Beca’s teasing to concern would have bought a smile to her face.

“There’s a person.” She started to worry her bottom lip.

“A person?”

“Yeah, on the side walk.” Her ginger curled bounced along with her nodding, even if Beca couldn’t see.

“You’re kidding me. They’re on the sidewalk? Let me guess, they’re even using it  _walk_  on. How dare they.” It was widely known (within the Bellas) that Beca wasn’t that best at comforting, that humor was her go to method for dealing with just about anything. Usually, it worked, but then again, usually Chloe wasn’t walking home in the dark while someone was maybe or maybe not following her.

“ _Beca._ ” She whined, “I’m serious, I’ve just got this feeling. They’re headed in the same direction and I can’t see their face to figure them out. I don’t know, like I said, it’s dumb.”

“Want me to stay on the line? I mean, nothing’s going to happen, but in case it does, I’m here. Well not here, but on the phone. You get what I mean.” Yeah, comforting really wasn’t Beca’s forte, but hey, she was trying.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence Becs.”

“Do you  _want_ me to hang up?” The DJ retorted.

“No.” Chloe answered, entirely too quickly. “But you’re probably right. Nothing’s going to happen.”

“Exactly. When have I ever been wrong?” And then after a beat, Beca added, “Actually don’t answer that.”

Chloe let out a soft laugh. Surprisingly, she was feeling somewhat better about the whole scenario. Score one for Beca’s inability to deal with emotions in the conventional way.

“Okay, I can see the dorms. I’m hanging up now.”

“Okay, text me when you get in okay. I need to know you’re not lying dead in a ditch somewhere.”

“Beca!” Those were not the mental images she needed right now.

“Bye Chlo!” She called out, her voice already sounding further away as Beca hung up.

Shoving her phone into her pocket, Chloe chanced glancing around , cursing Beca as she did.

The silhouette had taken to standing by the bus shelter, directly across from the red head. An odd choice, considering the buses didn’t stop here at this time of night. There was a courtesy bus that ferried the university students who couldn’t afford a cab into the main club district, but even it didn’t stop there. It picked up them up at one end, and let them off at the other.

(Chloe knew this because it was something she frequently used. Whilst drunk, she had once argued with the driver when he wouldn’t stop here, even going so far as so suggest he just slowed down so she could stop, drop and roll because it was so close to her dorm. She would have been on it tonight if it hadn’t been for that stupid Lit paper.)

Speaking of the devil, or rather the bus driven by the devil, the unmistakable sound of the rattling engine filled the air as dim headlights came into view.

That should have been her cue to leave. She should have turned away from whoever chose to stand in that particular spot, and walked into her dorm, texted Beca to say she’d arrived okay, before slipping into bed to sleep somewhere a little more comfortable than library desk.

But she didn’t, because curiosity got the better of her.

She didn’t, because as the headlights grew closed, the face of the mysterious figure was illuminated.

And it was like looking in a mirror. If the mirror put on a blonde wig and looked sadder than you thought possible.

Piercing blue eyes met piercing blue eyes.

Chloe’s mouth fell open.

She had to be more tired than she thought.

Maybe she was still asleep.

That’s it, this was all a dream.

Not real.

Or maybe it was a coincidence.

Those existed right.

There was a perfectly logical explanation.

There had to be.

A sister maybe?

Long lost twin?

It was entirely possible.

There had to be a logical answer.

Where was Aubrey when you needed her?

The person, this  _other_   _Chloe_ , let her handbag fall to her feet, the clattering sound of it hitting the concrete echoing around the street.

Or maybe that was all part of the imagination. Or dream, whatever.

Chloe, the  _real_  Chloe, began to travel forward, her feet taking steps towards this stranger, towards the possibility of an answer.

But she never arrived.

The stranger mirrored her movements.

The bus kept coming.

Chloe turned away just before the impact, returning to the pavement as the horn blared through the night.

Somehow, she still heard the thud of body against metal.

And then again as it hit the floor.

She could see the bus driver, pale faced and gripping the steering wheel like his life depended on it.

Maybe it did.

And then Chloe was moving again.

Crossing the road, and to the bus shelter where the bag was laying, now owner less.

She didn’t think. She just grabbed it, and tried to avoid looking at the stranger. The body.

She failed.

It was like she was staring at herself. Lying there, motionless.

She almost laughed at how surreal the situation was. All she was missing was the ditch, Beca’s earlier words echoing in her mind.

And then she blanched. This situation wasn’t funny at all.

A girl was dead.

A girl with  _Chloe’s_  face.

How was she supposed to explain this when the police arrived?

_Yes Officers, I have recently just become aware she looks exactly like me. No I don’t know her. I wasn’t even aware she existed until she stepped in front of this_ bus _._

The bus.

The bus that had a driver.

The bus that had a driver who probably shouldn’t see Chloe right now seeing as she looked like a carbon copy of the body lying on the ground, clutching a bag that didn’t belong to her.

So she took off into the darkness, a brisk stride taking her down the block until the bus was out of view, before circling back to her dorm.

The door creaked as she entered the building, and her footsteps echoed down the hallway as she walked, but neither sound even registered, her mind in a complete state of white noise and instant replays of what she’d witnessed.

Upon reaching her destination, she mechanically slipped they key out of her bag and unlocked the door with a white knuckled grip, slipping inside as quickly as possible and dropping both bags to the floor.

She didn’t even bother getting changed. Instead, choosing to flop face first onto her bed.

She’d be thankful that she didn’t wake up Aubrey in the morning, but right now, she buried her face into her pillow and pretended the evening hadn’t happened.


	2. Early Clone Catches the Worm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a head's up that this chapter touches on the events of the previous chapter, so a slight trigger warning for that, but otherwise, enjoy!

To say that Chloe had a restless night's sleep was an understatement.

Her unconscious mind had been replaying the night's events over and over and over again. The sound of the horn blaring, multiplied by a tenfold thanks to her imagination. The way everything seemingly moved in slow motion as the other  _her_  stepped out onto the road. Those damn piercing blue eyes.

The very same eyes that had stared back at her every time she looked in the mirror.

It's a wonder she managed to get any sleep at all.

When she did finally managed to drag herself back to reality, she found her limbs twisted around her bed sheets, white knuckled fists tightly clenched and crumpled clothes that were now slightly damp with sweat.

She sat upright, pressing the palm of her hand to her forehead, like somehow it would make a difference. Like maybe she could convince herself it was all a bad dream.

"You look like crap." Aubrey casually commented as she poured a cup of coffee, having never been one to pull punches. The coffee was for Chloe of course, Aubrey had already had hers. And been for her morning run. And finished her required reading for the following week. All before nine thirty.

"Didn't sleep well." Chloe mumbled, sliding her legs to dangle off the bed, not quite having the energy to drag herself out of bed yet.

"I noticed." The blonde walked over to her best friend, passing the steaming mug to the redhead. "Are you okay?"

Chloe just sipped the steaming mug, she couldn't answer the question if she when she didn't know the answer herself.

"You got in late last night." Aubrey continued, taking a seat beside the unusually quiet Chloe.

"Sorry." Ordinarily, Chloe would have given a full explanation of the evening, apologizing for not being back on time and for potentially waking up her roommate. She would have told Aubrey all about falling asleep and losing track of time.

But you couldn't really tell your best friend that you'd watched yourself commit suicide.

Even Chloe, the girl who barges into a stranger's shower without a second though, knew that sounded crazy.

Besides, it was just a dream. There was no point in telling Aubrey about something that hadn't happen, right?

" _Okay_ , since when do you give one answer replies? Usually you've surpassed the one hundred word mark by now, and now you're only saying four? What happened? Is it Tom again?" That was the difference between Aubrey's concern and Beca. Beca didn't try to solve the problem, she'd make jokes, skirt around it, distract you until you were okay again. Aubrey was the opposite. She tackled the problem head on, after finding out exactly what the problem was.

"It's not Tom." She took another sip of her coffee. At least while she was drinking she had an actual excuse for not making eye contact. "I just didn't sleep well."

"Are you sick?"

"No."

"Injured?"

"No."

"Pregnant?" Aubrey's voice squeaked slightly, causing Chloe to chuckle cynically into the mug. She'd rather be dealing with a pregnant scare at this point.

"Aubrey, I'm fine. Honestly." It wasn't like she was  _really_  lying to her best friend. She was fine, physically speaking.

"You know you can talk to me right. You can tell me anything." The sincerity in her voice almost broke Chloe's resolve.

"Of course I know. You're my best friend. Have been since  _before_  pre-school. I came out to you before coming out to my parents. Your dad even nicknamed me  _Ladybug_. You might as well be family, and if something was wrong, you'd be the first to know about it, okay?"

Aubrey nodded, satisfied with the answer she'd received. Chloe breathed a sigh of relief, covering it up with smile and  _'you make the best coffee Bree'_ before taking another sip, thanking the aca-gods that the issue wasn't going to be pushed.

The coffee comment earned Chloe a smile, one of those rare unguarded ones that only Chloe received. The ones that let her know she was appreciated and loved. The two of them couldn't have been closer, even if they had been related by blood. Aubrey was Chloe's sister in every sense of the word. She'd follow Aubrey to the end of the earth if she asked her too, and there wasn't anything Aubrey wasn't prepared to do for Chloe.

Thinking of Aubrey as her sister brought Chloe's thoughts back to the girl from the bus shelter. The sadness she expressed as the headlights reflected in her eyes. Before she knew it, she spaced out, staring into the swirls of her coffee. The world around her blurred into nothing, thoughts of the woman preoccupying her mind.

Who was she?

Where did she come from?

Was she even  _real_?

Was Chloe going crazy?

Was there someone out there somewhere missing the mystery woman?

Did anybody care that she'd—

"Chlo, are you going to answer that?"

Her attention was brought to her phone, the opening bars of David Guetta's  _Hey Mama_  making their way through the air as her phone buzzed on the desk across the room.

"It's been going off all morning. I didn't want to answer it while you were still asleep, so I've just been declining the calls. Beca's persistent though, I'll give her that."

The alt girl's name barely left Aubrey's lips before Chloe was rushing across the room, somehow managing to keep the remaining liquid in her cup while breezing past Aubrey in her guilt induced dash to answer her phone.

"Beca I'm so sorry I—"

"Jesus _fucking_ Christ Beale, I was barely joking when I said you needed to let me know you weren't dead in a ditch somewhere." Chloe jerked the phone away from her ear as Beca, clearly upset, yelled down the line.

Even Aubrey shot Chloe a sympathetic look.

"Beca I— "

"You tell me that some random might be  _following_  you home and that you're worried about it, so of course I worried about it and then you didn't even text me! If I end up with grey hairs, it's on you Beale, all your fault." Chloe could hear the shuddering breath through the phone. She might have even heard Jesse calling out that Beca really had been worried sick and that it had been hilarious. Chloe disagreed.

"I passed out as soon as I got home, Becs I'm so sorry." Chloe bit her lip, casting her eyes downwards, coffee mug resting on her leg. "I didn't mean to make you worry."

There was a long pause, neither girl saying anything more; Chloe wracked with guilt, Beca suddenly realizing that she'd shown real emotions. A lot of them. After clearing her throat, the brunette spoke up.

"Uh, it's cool… Y'know I was just mildly concerned and stuff." Chloe could hear Jesse's muffled laughter in the background, followed by ' _shut it, Swanson'_.

There was another pause, this time a little more awkward, a little more pregnant. It was Aubrey's voice that broke the silence.

"Chlo, if we're going to go to brunch before Bella's rehearsal, we should get going." And by get going, she meant that Chloe needed to shower and look at least somewhat presentable. Even by college student standards, she was a bit of a hot mess right now.

"Right, sorry Becs, gotta go. But I'll see you at rehearsals. And you'll see that I'm perfectly fine and not at all murdered." Her throat felt dry, tongue stumbling over the last word.

"Uh yeah, sure. I've only got thirty minutes left of my shift, so I'll see you there. I'll be the one wearing headphones."

"Awes. See you later skater." Ending the call, Chloe finally stood up from her bed, downed the last of her coffee before placing the empty mug on the side, feeling somewhat ready to face the day.

* * *

 

_I'll be the one wearing headphones? What the fuck were you thinking, Beca. Oh right, you weren't because Chloe Beale tends to have that effect on you._

" _Sooo_ , feeling better now that you know she's alive and well?" Jesse's smug face was grinning at her through the CD shelves.

"I felt fine before calling thank you very much. And I feel fine now." She threw a CD in his general direction, on the off chance it might connect with the target and actually get him to shut up. (It was Justin Bieber's old album. Beca wouldn't actually throw real music. Plus Jesse caught it, so no harm no foul. There was always next time though.)

"Yeah, and the pope isn't catholic. Seriously Bec, when are you going to tell her?"

Beca just glared back.

"We are not having this conversation right now. We're working. Don't make me get Luke to send you on a food run, because you know he'll do it. I'm his favorite."

Jesse scoffed.

"Fine, but seriously Beca, you were distraught this morning when you came in. Some girl hit by a bus on the very same street you knew Chloe was walking down. No call, no text, no answer."

"Well yeah, she's my best friend. It'd be dumb if I wasn't worried or whatever." Admitting emotions was not her forte. It felt wrong, like they were supposed to be bottled up inside, definitely not confessed to Jesse. Instead she focused on the CD's in front of her.  _Unleash the Dragon_? Sisqo? Who's musical tastes was Luke even catering to?

"First of all, ouch. I thought I was your best friend. Secondly, I think she's a little more than just that."

Beca shot him another glare. Did he not hear the part where they weren't having this conversation?

"Just think about it Beca." He urged as he walked past the brunette, Luke having called him over.

A CD hit him in the back as he walked away. (She'd retrieved the Bieber album from where Jesse had stacked it. Honestly it was offensive to call it music.)

* * *

 

Transforming herself into a passable, functioning young adult hadn't taken as long as she'd thought it would, and so half an hour later, bags in hand, the two roommates to walk the two blocks it took them to reach their favorite coffee shop.

The same two blocks that took her down the path she'd walked last night.

Chloe didn't even realize, having zoned out the moment Aubrey started talking about the set list.

"Woah, what happened here?"

There was tape creating a perimeter around the scene, the body had been removed and photos were being taken by investigators but otherwise, it was the exact same thing Chloe had seen the previous night.

_Definitely not a dream._

A crowd has already formed around the site, everybody wanting to get a look at the accident. Chloe just turned away. She didn't need to be reminded of what had happened. She just wanted to forget.

"Can we please just keep going? Let these guys do their jobs without everyone breathing down their necks." Chloe was already off and walking, if worst came to the worst, she'd just wait at the café for her best friend. It wasn't like they didn't already know each other's orders off by heart.

Aubrey didn't miss a beat though, long legs easily falling into step with Chloe's.

" _Okay_ , sorry for being curious."

"I'm just hungry Bree, and that's not doing anything for my appetite. If I'm going to be one hundred percent committed at rehearsals I need to eat." It was kind of a dick move, bringing the Bellas into this, knowing for well that Aubrey would place them at number one priority.

"You're absolutely right. C'mon, let's go get you some pancakes." Aubrey gave in, linking their free arms together before heading in the direction of the café, already continuing her earlier one sided conversation about the Bellas, this time with Chloe paying full attention. The promise of pancakes always worked wonders.

* * *

 

The café was busy, being a Saturday morning and all, so while Aubrey went to order, Chloe went to claim their usual table.

"And don't forget a muffin to go. Raspberry cheesecake flavor if they've got them, anything with chocolate in the name if they don't."

"Chloe you don't even like muffins. You think that if not going to have icing, it's not worth it." Aubrey huffed under her breath, Chloe having already walked over to their table.

By the time Aubrey had finished waiting in line and made her way over to the redhead, Chloe was frantically rummaging through her bag. Although it was one that Aubrey didn't recognize.

"Looking for your lit paper?" She asked, placing the bagged muffin on the table.

"Please don't remind me." Chloe groaned, shoving aside a half empty packet of gum.

"Okay then, let's talk about your new bag. It's cute, not your usual style but it's nice. Where'd you get it?"

"It's not mine." The reply left her lips before she even registered what she was going to say.

Aubrey's brows furrowed. Why would Chloe have a bag that wasn't hers?

"Was it left at the table?"

"Uhhhhh, yes?" Chloe paused her searching, hoping that the less movement she made, the more truthful she'd sound.

It had the opposite effect.

"Is that an answer or a question?" The look in Aubrey's eyes reminded Chloe of Mr. Posen. Honestly, the resemblance was uncanny. As was the immediate effect; the small corner table suddenly feeling like an interrogation room.

"An answer?"

" _Chloe_."

"Yes it was left at the table." Boy, she hoped that sounded convincing.

It didn't.

"Okay then, we'll just hand it to the manager." Aubrey challenged.

"We can't do that." Chloe started to worry her bottom lip.

"Why not?"

"Because I lied." There was no point in denying it. Chloe was a terrible liar. The guilt made her feel gross and she inevitably always ended up telling the truth.

" _Chloe._ "

And then the bag started ringing.

Well not the bag, but the phone inside. (The default ringtone confirmed that the bag definitely wasn't Chloe's. She'd never had a default ringtone in her life, claiming you could never really tell who's phone it was if their current anthem wasn't used.)

"Are you going to answer it?" Aubrey gave her a pointed look; it was really less of a question and more of an order.

"Umm."

Aubrey stared at Chloe. Chloe stared at the bag. Neither one of them made a move to actually answer the phone.

Chloe was kind of hoping it would answer itself.

Eventually, the ringtone finished and Chloe felt like she could breathe again.

Except she couldn't escape the disapproving look from Aubrey, no matter how sheepish her returning smile was, and honestly the anxiety it caused was on par with debating whether or not to answer a dead girl's phone.

Before Aubrey could continue her rendition of the Spanish Inquisition, the phone rang again.

"Chloe, answer the phone."

"I can't."

"It's not like you stole the bag, just answer the phone and find out who owns it so you can give it back."

"I can't."

"You can."

"No, I  _can't._ "

"Chloe, just answer the damn phone." Aubrey's outburst earned a few looks from the café patrons.

Chloe just bit her lip harder as she reached into the bag, hoping that Aubrey wouldn't notice the way it trembled.

She did.

Aubrey always noticed.

Holding the little pink phone to her ear, Chloe answered the call.

"Hello." Ugh, her voice sounded shaky again. She hated shaky. You couldn't belt out a power ballad if your voice was shaky.

"You need to answer you phone the first time I fucking call okay. There's a reason we have emergency phones, Iris, it's for  _emergencies_." A harsh female voice answered.

"Uh, right. Sorry. It won't happen again." She swallowed thickly, completely out of her comfort zone. Chloe wasn't even aware she  _had_ an area outside her comfort zone. Aubrey's stare wasn't helpful either.

"You sound off. You're not getting sick, are you?"

Chloe cleared her throat, hoping it would help her sound like the other version of her.  _Iris_.

"Uh no? I'm not?" She really needed to stop phrasing her answers as questions.

"You don't sound too sure of yourself, Iris." The woman sounded skeptical. Chloe supposed she had good reason to be. "Anyway, just keep an eye on it and if it gets any worse, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it." And then there was a pause. "So did you get the samples?"

Chloe froze with eyes wide as they met Aubrey's, whose eyebrows immediately furrowed. She wasn't stupid; Chloe clearly wasn't discussing a lost bag.

"Uh, the samples?"

The other line went quiet. Chloe pulled the phone away to check that the caller hadn't actually hung up.

"Hello? Are you still there?"

"Just one of a few, no family too. Who am I?"

"What?" As if Chloe wasn't confused enough, they were talking in riddles now. Awesome.

"Just one of a few. No family too. Who am I?" The woman slowly articulated each word. Chloe was at a loss for words.

"Could you, uh, repeat that?" Maybe if she heard it a third time, she'd magically have the answer?

"You're not Iris." The woman's voice was flat, devoid of emotion.

And then the line went dead. Chloe even checked, hoping that whoever the other caller was still there and could give her answers. But the call had ended, the words private number taunting her. As the food arrived to the table, she dropped the pink object back into the bag.

Out of sight, out of mind.

If only it were that easy.

"Chloe, what's going on?" Aubrey asked, her hand reaching over the table to grasp her best friend's. But Chloe could only shrug.

"I don't know Bree." She sighed, running a hand over her face." Honest to god, I have no clue what's going on right now but if I did, I'd tell you, because I tell you everything and because you always know the right thing to do."

Aubrey just nodded. Chloe had always been an open book emotionally. It was clear as day that she was struggling with something.

"Okay, it's okay. We'll figure it out. We'll eat breakfast now, and then we'll go somewhere else and you can tell me what you  _do_  know, and we'll figure it out."

Chloe could only nod, swapping her hold on Aubrey's hand for a knife and fork.

Just because she was no longer hungry, didn't mean pancakes couldn't make things that little bit better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Queries? Comments? Let me know what you think.


	3. All Good Clones Must Come to an End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, adoption is mentioned in this chapter. I don’t want to catch anyone off guard. As always, enjoy and let me know what you think :)

By the time they had finished their brunch and made their way over to the rehearsal space in order to set up, Chloe had managed to give herself a headache.

_Just one of a few. No family too. Who am I?_

No matter how many times she went over the riddle, she couldn’t come up with an answer.

She was no expert on riddles, but she was sure they were supposed to make at least a little bit of sense.  _Just one of a few._ That could be plenty of things.

Songs that Aubrey would actually allow the Bellas to sing. Days left to complete her Lit paper. The number of times Beca had let people touch her headphones.

_No family too._ It didn’t exactly fit any of Chloe’s previous thoughts.

She’d always known deep down that riddles were dumb. And now she had the proof.

Even if by some miracle she did find an answer, how was she supposed to know if it was the right one? The only person who knew had hung up on her, never to be heard from again.

Huffing in frustration, she dragged the last few chairs into position while Aubrey reviewed  the whiteboard.

Apparently during her internal struggle with word play, Chloe had also managed to explain the situation thus far to Aubrey, who’d proceeded to document the night’s events on the blank side of said whiteboard.

“Okay, you left the library around ten, which is the same time that Beca called. You then noticed someone following you. They continued to follow you until you were closer to the dorms, at which point they stopped at the bus shelter, and then… well, we saw the aftermath of what happened this morning.” Aubrey summarized.

“Correct.” Chloe nodded, taking a seat as she squinted at the whiteboard. Aubrey somehow managed to visually complicate this small amount of information.

“So basically, you know nothing.” The blonde sighed.

“Her name might be Iris.” Chloe offered, bristling slightly. It wasn’t her fault she’d been given next to no information on whatever the hell was going on. “That’s if whoever was on the other end of that phone call was using her actual name.”

Personally, Chloe would have gone with code names, but that’s just her.

“You’ve got her bag. Check for a driver’s license; we can at least confirm her name.” Aubrey commented, casually writing the dead girl’s name on the whiteboard.

“Oh. Right.” It was so simple; Chloe berated herself for not thinking of it sooner. It didn’t take much digging around to find the license; the plastic card clearly visible in the bottom left side vinyl cover.

Eerily enough, in the same place Chloe kept hers.

“Iris Jones.” Her voice wavered as her eyes bored into the grainy photo of the girl in question. If Chloe had blonde hair, they would have been completely identical. It left a sour taste in Chloe’s mouth.

After correcting the name on the whiteboard and taking a peek over Chloe’s shoulder, Aubrey seemed to agree.

“Oh my aca-gods. A twin then. An identical twin.” It was a stretch, but how else could you explain someone having the exact same face as your best friend.

“A twin that was never even mentioned once?” Chloe scoffed. It didn’t make sense. Her family didn’t have secrets, everything was shared. Chloe could regale stories about her parents that no daughter should ever have knowledge of. Every party, every relationship and every problem the Beale children had ever had, had been shared with their parents.

It couldn’t even be argued that the Beales hadn’t wanted more children, and had somehow given a daughter away. Chloe’s five other siblings were a testament to that. A big family had always been at the core of who they were. Every family gathering Chloe could remember had been held outside out of necessity. The extended family just couldn’t fit into one house, let alone one room.

“Maybe you’re adopted.” Aubrey blurted out. Chloe recoiled, as if she’d been slapped.

“ _Excuse me?_ ”

“It’s the only logical explanation Chloe. This girl looks  _exactly_  like you.” She pressed, sitting next to her friend.

“She’s blonde.” Chloe defended. There was no way they were twins. It wasn’t possible. She’d know if she had a sister. Her parent’s would have told her if she was adopted. They wouldn’t hide something that big from her.

“You can dye hair Chloe.” Aubrey countered.

“You’re wrong. I’m not adopted. Mom… she would have told me.” Chloe bit her bottom lip. “I… We all have red hair. The whole family. You’ve seen us. It’s like a Weasley family reunion when we’re all together. Except for Uncle Joe, but he’s almost bald so it doesn’t count. Red hair is a recessive gene. I’m their child Aubrey. I—”

“Chloe…”

“You’re wrong. There’s another explanation, there… there has to be. There are supposed to be seven other people in the world who look just like you, maybe we’ve just found one of mine.” She was grasping at straws, she knew she was, but it was easier than dealing with the alternative.

“Chloe…” Aubrey tried again, but Chloe just shook her head, looking down at the license in her hand.

“January 30, 1993. She’s almost eight months older. We’re not twins.” Her jaw was clenched; Aubrey just looked at her with sad eyes.

“Okay.”

“I’m not adopted.”

“Okay.”

She took a shuddering breath, avoiding eye contact with Aubrey, instead choosing to read the other details of the license.

Female. Blonde hair and blue eyes. 5’4”. Jacksonville, Florida.

Chloe closed her eyes. Maybe if she tried hard enough, she could ignore the fact that Iris had a life out there somewhere, a life that she’d never return to.

She placed the license back in its rightful place, briefly scanning the contents of the purse. Coffee shop loyalty cards, credit cards and a few crumpled notes that looked like they’d hastily been shoved inside. There was also a picture, Iris with her arm around a younger boy. A brother maybe.

Chloe tossed the purse back into the bag. She didn’t want to see any more of this woman’s life, knowing she no longer existed; knowing that they shared a face.

“You should check that for other clues.” Aubrey suggested, sounding almost eager, like she was enjoying this strange branch of private investigating.

“Maybe later.” Delving into someone’s life and picking it apart wasn’t exactly high on Chloe’s to do list. She still had a Russian Lit paper to finish after all. And with Aubrey’s earlier comment, she was rebelling on principle.

“Chloe this is serious, what if—“

“I said later.” Chloe wasn’t having any of it; she didn’t really want to hear what Aubrey had to say. Besides, the other Bellas were arriving.

“Would you just liste—“

And then a phone rang, cutting her off with Cyndi Lauper’s  _Girls Just Want to Have Fun_.

“Aubrey Posen.” She answered the call, moving away from the group to allow for some privacy. Chloe took the opportunity to mingle with the Bellas and get her mind off of current events.

Stacie was showing off her latest nail art while Fat Amy entertained them all with one of her many Australian adventures, this one involving a python and a didgeridoo.

Beca was the last to arrive, making a bee-line for Chloe whilst muttering an apology for running late. Something about Luke and Jesse and wishing they would just drop their pants and measure instead of asking Beca to settle whatever their fragile masculinity was fixated on that week.

Chloe couldn’t care less about tardiness though, the sight of the brunette improving her mood immediately. Holding up a finger to the girl, she quickly retrieved the to-go bag from on top of the piano where she’d left it, holding it out to the DJ upon her return.

“You always forget to eat breakfast when you have your Saturday shifts, so here. I didn’t finish it at brunch this morning, so I saved it for you.” Chloe practically beamed, while Beca inspected the baked goods.

“You ordered a muffin?” She asked.

“Technically Aubrey ordered it.” Chloe pointed out with a grin on her face.

“You hate muffins.” Beca eyed her with faux suspicion.

“No I don’t.”

“Yes you do. You think they’re stupid because they don’t even have icing, and I quote,  _what’s the point_. You hate muffins.” Beca reiterated, smirk on her face.

“Okay, so I don’t like muffins. But you do.”

“This is a raspberry cheesecake muffin.” Beca stated, her mouth slight agape after double checking the contents of the bag.

“I’m aware.” Chloe beamed. “It’s your favourite.”

“Thanks, Beale.” A lovely shade of red rose up Beca’s neck as she looked down at her boots. Chloe just continued to smile at her.

That was until Aubrey made her way back over to the group.

“I’m uh, just going to go put this bag in the bin. I’ll be back.” Aubrey shot the brunette a look, but made no move to stop her.

“Chloe, I need to speak to you. Privately.”

“Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of everyone.” Chloe challenged.

“Fine.” Aubrey had had enough, apparently. “They want me to come down to the morgue so I can identify your body.”

Chloe’s mouth fell open. The rest of the Bellas wore a look of confusion.

Except for Lily, who just nodded solemnly like this was an everyday occurrence and no cause for alarm.

* * *

 

Beca had been happily picking apart her muffin with a smile on her face when Jesse came up behind her, poking her in the ribs.

“Becaw!”

Beca swung her free hand around to smack him in the arm.

“Jesse, what the fuck?”

“You had this dopey smile on your face, figured you’d want me to snap you out of it before your rep was ruined.” He joked.

“Oh so you’re stalking me now?”

“You wish. I was on my way to class, but then I saw  _the_  Beca Mitchell smiling for no apparent reason, so I had to investigate.”

“You’re an asshole. You’d be smiling too if you were eating an awesome muffin.” To punctuate her statement, she shoved a large piece into her mouth.

“Oh, that’s what it is? So it has nothing to do with your toner for a certain Bella woman?”

Beca glared. And continued eating her muffin. Who knew how much longer she’d have before returning to Aubrey’s reign of terror? She was going to make the most of it.

“Where’d you even get the muffin anyway? There’s no way you had enough time to get here on time  _and_  stop for a snack.”

The flash of red on Beca’s cheeks was enough of an answer, but she said the name anyway.

“Chloe.”

“She brings you breakfast?”

“No, you idiot. She didn’t finish it when she ate, and so she saved it for me.”

“But Chloe hates muffins. They don’t have icing.” It was a fact Jesse had come to know by proxy, thanks to Beca’s giant toner and all.  

“That’s what I said!”

“You know what this means, right?” He grinned.

“Jesse, no. Do not go there.” Beca shook her head.

“C’mon Becs, stop denying it. She’s totally into you.”

“Jesse, no. None of this false hope crap. She’s my best friend,  _other than you_  before you start whining about it, and that’s enough for now. Just drop it okay.” She took another bite, figuring she couldn’t put her foot in her mouth if it was already full.

“And what happens if it stops being enough?”

“Jesse!” So what if she sprayed crumbs in his direction, the boy deserved it and her wrath needed to be adequately expressed.

“Ugh, fine. I’m going, but only because I don’t want to be late. We’re watching Alfred Hitchcock’s  _Psycho_  today and analyzing the mise-en-scene in order—“

“ _Goodbye_  Jesse.” She pushed him in the direction of the arts building. Gently, mind you.

“But before I go,” He turned on his heels to face her, before walking backwards to make sure he was well out of reach from Beca’s tiny lethal hands. “Was there even a bite already taken out of that muffin or did she ‘ _save’_  the whole thing for you?”

She ignored him, and tossed the empty bag into the nearby bin. Stupid Jesse and the stupid intact muffin.

* * *

 

Back inside the rehearsal space, Aubrey had filled in the rest of the Bellas on Chloe’s situation. The confusion surrounding Chloe’s ‘body’ had quickly been overtaken by concern.

Jessica had hugged her and offered kind words of support. Cynthia Rose had offered an ear, should Chloe ever want to talk about anything heavy. Lily may have mentioned something about hacking into the phone and tracking down whoever made the call, but no one could quite hear her anyway, and if they had been able to, they’d probably have been terrified by her choice of words.

“If that’s not Chloe’s body in the morgue, why have they called you to make the identification?” Stacie asked, her scientific curiosity getting the better of her.

“The fingerprints are a match to Chloe’s.” Aubrey explained.

“And since my parents in England right now, Aubrey is my emergency contact.” Chloe continued.

“That’s impossible.” Stacie frowned.

“Nah, they let American’s fly overseas. Shocking I know.” Fat Amy spoke this time, trying to lighten the mood with humor.

“No, not the travel; the fingerprints. Matching fingerprints are impossible. Everybody has unique prints. Even identical twins, while similar, don’t have the same fingerprints. It’s impossible.” Stacie clarified, in full bio major mode now.

And then confusion was back. There didn’t seem to be a reasonable explanation, and with everybody falling silent, Chloe spoke up.

“Does the riddle ‘ _Just one of a few, no family too, who am I’_  make sense to anyone?”

The majority of the Bellas shook their head. Ashley thought the answer could be an orphan, but there was really no way to tell. Not without the mystery caller’s confirmation.

“Back to more pressing matters,” Aubrey interrupted their brainstorming. “We’ve got a body in a morgue with Chloe’s face and fingerprints, and we need to do something about it.”

“I can’t let my parent’s think that I’m… dead.” Chloe hesitated

“And if I could get some samples of this girl, Iris, I might be able to tell us more.” Stacie offered.

“I think I have an idea.” Hearing Lily at regular volume, whilst easier to understand, was still beyond weird, and everyone turned to look at her with mild shock. “We need to steal the body.”

* * *

 

When Beca re-entered the rehearsal space, the Bellas were all huddled around the whiteboard, talking animatedly.

“Having fun without me?”

They all turned around to face her with guilty looks; Aubrey recovered and quickly flipped the whiteboard back to its regular Bella strategy.

“Now that  _someone_  is finally here, we can begin.” Ignoring Beca’s question, she clapped her hands together. “Places everyone.”

And suddenly it was as if the Bellas hadn’t just been plotting what was most certainly illegal. And morally wrong on so many levels.

They started off with vocal exercises, finding harmonies and such before moving onto cardio, which was also their warm up for choreography.

Beca, as per usual, put in the minimum effort required; however she wasn’t the only one. Chloe’s lack of enthusiasm was quite frankly unsettling. Ordinarily, Chloe was the one with encouraging words, pep in her step and enough energy to power them all through their set ten times over.

But today was different. She wasn’t smiling as much, and when she was, it seemed forced. She lacked her normal bubbly energy. It was completely out of character and Beca was not a fan.

So when Aubrey called a break, Beca decided to do something about it.

“Hey Chlo.” The girl in question was looking around for her water bottle, so Beca offered hers.

“Thanks Becs, what’s up?” She asked, before taking a swig from the bottle. Something that Beca tried very hard to not be distracted by, although the bob of Chloe’s throat had other less than PG ideas.

“Uh, I just noticed you seemed kind of out of it today. Y’know just making sure you’re okay and stuff.” She tugged on the hem of her shirt, somehow having forgotten that the whole ‘feelings’ thing was way out of her comfort zone. A smile came over Chloe’s face. It was reassuring, a sign that Beca was doing the right thing.

“Just working through some stuff, I’ll be fine.” Technically it wasn’t a lie. Beca just nodded, not really sure how to proceed. Was she supposed to press for more information? Drop the subject? A hearty fist bump?

“If you ever want to talk about things, like I’m here. Well not  _here_  here, except I am now, but what I mean is that I’m here  _for you_.” She wrinkled her nose. “Was that really lame? It sounded lame.”

“Yep.” Chloe giggled, nodding. “But in the best way.”

“Ugh, well yeah, if you need to talk, I have two ears so…” Beca trailed off, biting the inside of her cheek. Why did she try dealing with this whole emotions stuff again? Oh right, actual Disney princess Chloe Beale, that’s why. She was only snapped out of her thoughts by Chloe’s hand on hers.

“Thank you. Seriously. For this and the water.” She flashed another smile before pressing a light kiss to Beca’s cheek. Before Beca even had time to process, Aubrey called the red head over leaving a blushing Beca to stand by herself as she internally floundered.

* * *

 

After practice, the Bellas (bar Beca) stayed behind to go over the plan one more time.

 “Jessica and Ashley, you’re on lookout duty. I’ll go into the morgue to meet with the medical examiner. When asked to identify the body, I’ll say I need a minute to collect myself to be sure.  _Hopefully_  I will then be left alone with the body, which is where the next step of the plan comes in.” Aubrey explained, surprisingly calm about the whole thing.

“Yeah and if the doc doesn’t leave, my improv’ skills and ability to look sexy in a lab coat will come in handy.” Fat Amy added, giving Chloe the thumbs up.

“Exactly, while Amy provides a distraction, Stacie will come in with a cadaver. Early twenties, blonde hair, similar height and weight if possible, and we’ll swap it over with this other body.”

“Iris.” Chloe stiffened. “Her name is Iris.”

“Right. Iris. We swap Iris’ body with the cadaver; Lily wipes the hard drive of anything relating to her file and we get the hell out of dodge.” Lily gave Aubrey a salute.

“And if anybody asks, we’re interns.” Stacie said. “I’ll be able to have enough lab coats for us all, so we can blend in.”

“I’ll be waiting in a van pulled up at the loading dock. We’ll have enough room to transport everyone as well as look like we’re supposed to be there.” Cynthia Rose this time. “I’ve got buddies who can supply the van, they’ll help me out.”

“Where are we going to store the body?” Jessica asked.

“There’s going to be an empty space where the cadaver came from.” Stacie had already thought about this. “I can shuffle around some of the bodies and make sure Iris will be right at the back. That way other students are unlikely to come across her. I’ll even put a note on the cold chamber so that everyone keeps out.”

Chloe looked at each of the girls, each and every one of them ready to break the law for her. It was surreal, and nothing like the sisterhood the previous Bellas had advocated. She’d done a good job of not crying up until now, but realizing what these girls were prepared to do for her, her eyes began to fill with tears. The happy sort, although she was a little overwhelmed with the whole range of emotions, so it was kind of hard to tell.

 “We’re going to get answers Chlo.” Stacie put her hand on the red head’s shoulder. Usually she knew what words to say in order to cheer someone up, but there wasn’t really anything you could do for a friend in this situation. Certainly nothing more than what they were already doing.

 “Yeah, and I’m pretty sure you’re mean to break at least one law during your time at college, we’re just getting ahead of the game, Ginger.” Again, Fat Amy was lifting the mood, and succeeding this time. “So how come the cops have your finger prints on file anyway?”

Chloe’s cheeks tinged red.

“I  _may_  have tried to out drink Aubrey at a bar one night, and then proceeded to flash my boobs to an officer of the law as we left the establishment.”

Stacie held up her hand for a high five as Fat Amy hollered. Aubrey just frowned. Now was not the time for jokes, they had a body to steal.

“If we meet back here in an hour, will that give everyone enough time to get ready?”

The girls all nodded.

“Good. Let’s do this.”

**Author's Note:**

> Love it? Hate it? Ready for more? Let me know what you think.


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